Odyssey of the Mind (previously titled: I Know What You Are Thinking)
by myshlp
Summary: Darcy has his Hunsford moment. Instead of being able to leave, he & EB are taken away to a strange place with what they believe to be windows showing them strange scenes. What do the windows show? A short, hopefully amusing, story about what happens when you see into someones thoughts. With an alien abduciton for additional entertainment.
1. Prologue

_**Prologue**_

She hadn't shown up.

When the parson arrived, his wife informed them that she felt ill and was forced to stay at Hunsford for the evening.

Yet he'd already planned the conversation he would have with her during tea. He would have her play for them while he turned the pages so he could have a private moment with her. That moment he would finally declare his intentions toward her, but now she was not here, and he had one day remaining before he would never again see her.

He suffered the required polite greetings, drank a few sips of tea, nibbled a biscuit, then excused himself for some ambiguous task that needed attending. Once freed from the room, Darcy quickly quit Rosings.

His feet carried him to the parsonage. His hand rang the doorbell. His mind acted on instinct.

Suddenly he was before her, confused and uncertain. Unthinkingly, he inquired about her health.

While his mouth formed the words, his mind recognized that it had to be now. There would be no other opportunity. Tomorrow he must take his leave, then she would be lost to him forever.

It had to be now.

 _"In vain I have struggled…"_

Note: This story was originally written as I Know What You Are Thinking. It's an alien abduction story I wrote while in a silly mood a couple of years ago. As I have time on vacation to re-read and do some significant clean up, I'm removing what used to be here and posting the updated version for your enjoyment. And changing the name, or trying to change the name.

Enjoy.


	2. Kidnapped, the Experimentation Begins

_"… I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry."_

The shock resounded through him. Humiliation.

He had been willing to overlook all of the objections to an alliance with her only to be rejected. Rejected by an unsuitable woman of inferior status. Rejected for unintentional offenses to her vanity caused by speaking the truth. Rejected for himself!

Wickham, the scoundrel, was still tormenting him. Would he never be rid of that ne'er-do-well!

Then she accused him of separating Bingley from Miss Bennet—how did she even know about Bingley?

Darcy pulled back, drawing a breath to respond when the drawing-room windows began burning with an unnatural light.

Miss Bennet jumped to her feet, unsure what to think of the bizarre light. They moved away from the windows, away from the hellish glow emanating from them.

As the light became brighter, blinding them both, Darcy tried to get Miss Bennet out of the room and to safety.

It did no good. The fiendish light was sucking them in, pulling them toward the windows. Both grabbed wildly, desperately clutching for a hand-hold, only to find no purchase.

As they were sucked into the abyss, their minds went dark.

As the darkness lifted and Elizabeth regained consciousness, her eyes jerked open. She found herself in a hard metal chair, unable to remove herself from it. Puzzling, as there were no ropes or straps to hold her in the seat, yet she was stuck.

As Miss Bennet awoke, Darcy regained his consciousness as well. His first sight was of her seated across from him, causing him to leap from his own seat to no avail. Without straps or ropes or chains, he was attached to the metal chair and had no way of removing himself from her presence.

Peering around the room, he vainly tried to find some shred of something he could recognize. It was like no room Darcy had seen. Metal and glass, everything was made of metal or glass. No wood. No stone. No upholstery. Not even a door. How could he escape such a room?

When his search landed on Miss Bennet seated across from him, his gentlemanly upbringing required he address her no matter his own disquiet.

Before he could draw breath to speak, a section of the wall opened and some oddly shaped creatures, similar in shape to Mr. Collins, came into the room. Darcy tried vainly to extricate himself from the chair, wanting to protect Miss Bennet as the creatures moved toward her. He could do nothing but watch as they removed the pins from her hair, releasing it to fall about her shoulders before lowering the sieve-like object above the chair onto her head. (2)

 _How odd. Putting a cooking utensil on someone's head._

In Darcy's attempt at understanding why the creatures would put such a thing on her head, he barely realized they were attaching a similar object to his own head. In shock, he looked across at Miss Bennet, her face schooled with courage and resolve. So she wouldn't lose her composure, even in such a bizarre situation. Impressed with her bravery, he forced himself to remember that would not marry him. He must not forget that detail.

Once the creatures left through the opening in the wall, the opening disappeared. They were once again alone in the queer room.

"Miss Bennet, are you well?" Darcy finally found himself able to ask.

"I am," Miss Bennet answered, trying unsuccessfully to free herself from the hard metal seat. Closing her eyes, she let out a long breath as her shoulders sagged. Slowly opening her eyes, she looked at the man of sense and education who had lived in the world sitting across from her. "Mr. Darcy, do you have any idea what is happening?"

"I do not know. This is unlike any place I have ever known." Darcy continued to search the room for anything familiar.

He noted the curtainless window behind both his and Miss Bennet's chairs. It was wider than it was high, was large in size, without mullions or draperies to hide the blackness on the other side of the glass. There was nothing else in the room, beyond the chairs facing each other to which they were attached and the sieves placed on their heads.

Yet he must make sense of it all. "We have obviously been kidnapped. I assume they will contact my family demanding a ransom." Darcy thought about Richard or the Earl receiving the ransom note and what it would take to get the funds to free them. Which then led to thought of how upset Georgiana would be if his situation became known to her.

While considering what it would take to get the ransom, Darcy twisted as much as he could to look around the room, trying to work out how they could get back home. There was only metal wall and a black window behind him. Could they break through those windows if they were able to free themselves from the chairs? Were the windows painted black or was it now late in the evening? What would they find on the other side?

"What about me, Mr. Darcy?" Miss Bennet interrupted his speculations on escape in an acerbic tone.

His look returned to Miss Bennet, she was obviously perturbed. Darcy was still thinking about how his family would react to the ransom note. Particularly, how Georgiana would react.

As he struggled to comprehend the meaning behind her question, the window behind her began to brighten. Colors danced across what had before been blacked out. Images appeared, though no paint was removed or curtains opened. Moving images. It was as if he were looking through the window, seeing places and people on the other side.

Looking closer, he realized the man in the image behind Miss Bennet was - him! It was not exactly a flattering image. The version of him in the window was looking down his nose, his expression indicating he smelled something rather unpleasant.

His image in the window looked toward an image of Miss Bennet's mother. He could hear voices coming from behind him, it sounded like Mrs. Bennet's screeching, but he could not make out the words.

The gasp across from him drew his attention. "Miss Bennet? What's wrong?"

"The window behind you has people in it. Colonel Fitzwilliam and Lady Catherine, I don't know the others. They appear to be talking about a letter being held by an older gentleman." Miss Bennet tried to look behind her. "Their voices, I can hear them but not the words they are saying."

"Maybe the windows show what's happening. Maybe my family has received the ransom note and are working to free me?" But how would that explain his image being in the window behind Miss Bennet? He turned to look at the people in the image behind him, but caught only a brief glimpse of a worried Georgiana before the window behind him went black again.

Darcy looked back to Miss Bennet, who was staring at her lap. Unable to see the emotions on her face, he looked to the window behind her. The image of him in the window replayed the recent scene at Hunsford. He was proposing to her, he cringed to hear his words played back to him. He could see his anger, that which he thought in good regulation before responding but he could now see it had not been contained.

Suddenly the images playing behind Miss Bennet changed. He could see images of Mr. Bennet bringing...a child maybe? (The image seemed to be from the child's perspective.) The child went with him to work on an estate. In the image, Mr. Bennet was teaching this child how to play chess, read Latin, and do the estate books. Darcy wondered if maybe the Bennets had lost a son. He looked again at Miss Bennet's face and saw a tear rolling down her cheek.

"Miss Bennet…"

"Sir, I apologize for my cruel response to you in the parsonage. I admit to my anger over your separating my sister from Mr. Bingley, as I only learned of it this morning. Your disdain of Hertfordshire and its residents was apparent throughout your stay. I see now that I have been prejudiced in my view of you because of this. Again, sir. I am sorry. I acted rashly." Miss Bennet could not meet his eyes, staring at her lap while she apologized.

She finally raised her eyes pensively to him. "I ask you sir: What about me? Would these kidnappers send a note to my family? Would they demand the same ransom from my family as they would demand from yours? As you well know, we do not have the resources you have to pay such amounts."

Darcy wanted to hold her, tell her all would be fine. "I do not know Miss Bennet. Until they tell us something, I have no more knowledge than you. Rest assured, I will secure both of our releases."

 _Damned right_ , Darcy thought. _There is no way in hell I'm leaving without her even if I have to carry her home myself._ Which wouldn't be a bad thing. He could picture carrying her into Pemberley.

Elizabeth could not imagine what would happen to her. If they were kidnapped for ransom, Mr. Darcy's family could afford to pay it much more than her family could. Where would that leave her? Mr. Darcy was her only chance at returning to her beloved father and family, yet had she not just cruelly abused him when he had asked for her hand? She could only apologize and beg his forgiveness.

As she watched the window behind him, a curious image appeared. It was the image of a man, though she could not see who the man was, with his arms wrapped around her. Then it morphed, showing that man carrying her into a large home. In the moving picture she seemed to be happy with being carried, but the real Elizabeth, the one who was watching, couldn't imagine wanting a man to carry her around like that. In the picture, he was bringing her up a staircase, down a hall, into a room, and laying her down on a bed. Elizabeth found it curious, maybe she was hurt or ill, and the man was helping her to her room? But that wasn't her house and it certainly wasn't her room. Then the man carrying her laid down on the bed next to her. Then he started kissing her and running his hands down her side!

Elizabeth sharply inhaled, gasping in shock. Darcy snapped out of his trance. "Are you well?"

Her eyes were wide. "On the window! It showed…. I was injured…" Then she looked at him, blushing. "Um…nothing." She looked back into her lap. Elizabeth was mortified. There was no way she could tell the dour Mr. Darcy what she had seen on the window. She knew she must be crimson from the humiliation of witnessing it.

Darcy tried to look behind him. The window was black again. "What did it show? Are you hurt?" he asked in concern.

"Nothing, sir. I am well. The window showed something that was just… unexpected." She refused to look at him, staring only at the ground.

Darcy looked closely at her. He could tell something horrible must have been on that window, but she didn't trust him enough to share it with him.

Elizabeth put the disturbing image out of her mind and concentrated on trying to get home. Regaining her composure, she decided to focus on the task at hand. "Mr. Darcy, we need to find a way to get out of here. Do you have any ideas on how we could free ourselves from these chairs? I do not understand how they are restraining us"

"I do not. I avoid situations where I might find myself placed in restraints," he said with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood. Although he could remember being tied to a tree by Wickham when he was 14. Wickham, at 16, had beenwas trying to seduce a girl who had recently come to live in Kympton with her aunt by pretending to be Darcy. Darcy had been able to work himself out of those ropes and made sure the girl knew what the _real_ Fitzwilliam Darcy looked like.

There was also the time at university when Wickham locked him in a root cellar so Wickham would be free to visit the gambling house in the village. His release from that prison only happened when he heard servants outside and was able to gain their attention.

Of course, thinking of restraints, he could always bring a tied up Miss Bennet to his bed...but no. What fun would that be if she had to be forced? He wanted a willing participant, one who desired him and would be amenable to all sorts of distractions…

Elizabeth watched the images on the window behind Darcy with wonder. It looked like a young Wickham tying a boy up. The boy worked himself loose and interrupted Wickham's advances on a young girl. Then the images showed a slightly older Wickham locking someone in a cellar and laughing. It seemed the person was trapped for a while. Could her friend Wickham really be so cruel?

There was a horrifying flash of herself tied up on the bed from earlier, but then the ropes vanished. She was sitting in the bed, her clothing askew, reaching toward that man and allowing him to touch her. What could it mean? She would never do such a thing, yet those types of images kept repeating!

Now even more curious about the images acting out behind Darcy, Elizabeth responded in kind. "Neither have I, sir."

She started thinking of times she had been trapped. Of course, there was the time Charlotte's brother tied her to a tree in the garden so Elizabeth wouldn't beat him in a footrace. She was able to slip her small hands out of the ropes and still finished ahead of him - though barely. There was also the time she was playing with new kittens in the barn and the stable boy accidentally locked her in. And of course, getting out of her stays each evening was like being unshackled. Elizabeth grinned to herself at that "escape" she and her sisters would laugh about achieving every night.

Darcy watched the images play across the window behind Miss Bennet. A boy tying a girl to a tree, which offended Darcy's sensibilities. The very idea of a young man tying up a girl like that! Then he saw the girl free herself and run for dear life. She crossed the finish line just the boy. The girl turned and mock-curtseyed to the boy, who was fuming. Darcy grinned. Served that boy right. He would love to see Georgiana doing the same.

Then the window showed a girl playing in a barn with newborn kittens. When the barn became too dark to see the kittens, the girl tried to leave but the barn doors were locked up. Looking around the barn, she saw the window in the loft. The girl scurried up to the loft window and looked down. There was a ledge over the barn door she could land on and then jump down to the ground from there, which she promptly did, then ran all the way back to the house. A younger-looking Mr. Bennet admonished her for being so late, asking where she'd been. Once she told him, he chuckled and patted her on the head, telling her if she wanted to continue to be allowed outside on her own, she needed to be home before dark. A younger, but just as shrill, Mrs. Bennet accosted the girl next, berating her for being such a hoyden, asking why she couldn't be beautiful and charming like Jane. Darcy scowled. He hadn't liked Mrs. Bennet before because of her inelegant behavior and mercenary ways, but now his sensibilities were well and truly offended after her after seeing her say such things to the resourceful young girl.

As the image of Mrs. Bennet scolding the child faded, Darcy's jaw dropped and his eyes grew wide. The window now showed a mirror reflecting the image of a woman undressing. Although he could not quite see her face, her figure looked familiar. Her stays were her next layer of clothing and the woman was using the mirror to untie and unlace them. As they came off, she threw the stays onto her bed, inhaled deeply, and sighed "Freedom!"

Darcy recognized that voice. It couldn't be...

His eyes were glued to the magic window, showing the reflection of the mirror. The woman in the mirror tucked her chin to her neck, her face just outside of the mirror's reflection, removing the pins from her hair. She again sighed with relief as long dark curls fell around her shoulders and onto her breasts. She put on her night clothes, then sat in front of the mirror to start brushing her hair.

Dear God! Maybe he had died and gone to in heaven. It was Miss Bennet's reflection!

With that image in front of him, once his brain started working once again, Darcy couldn't help but picture himself coming up behind her, brushing her hair. Kissing her neck. Running his hands down…

Miss Bennet yelped. Darcy looked at her face. She was horrified. He hated that she felt that way, and there was nothing he could do. He longed to go to her, hold her, and let her know she would be fine.

As Miss Bennet looked behind Darcy, her face went pale. "Miss Bennet! Are you ill?" Darcy asked urgently. He was frustrated she wouldn't let him try to help her. Not that there was much he could do while secured to the chair, but he felt she should at least tell him what is causing her such distress.

The window behind Darcy had shown Elizabeth in her bedroom room at Longbourn brushing her hair at her dressing table. In the reflection, Mr. Darcy walked up behind her, took her brush from her, stroked her face telling her all would be well, then gathered her into his arms, holding her close while he gently kissed her.

She couldn't respond to him after seeing that. What did it mean? The images didn't make sense. As far as she knew, Mr. Darcy had never set foot in Longbourn. He definitely had never been in her room! He despised her and her family. While he had been in Hertfordshire she thought he had despised her. She was "tolerable" and "not handsome enough".

Behind her, Darcy saw himself at the Meryton Assembly. Bingley was trying to get him to dance with Miss Elizabeth Bennet. He, Darcy, was being an ass. He heard his ugly words to Bingley, and obviously, Miss Bennet heard them too. Darcy groaned at his boorishness, but it wasn't over yet. Before him, the window showed a conversation between the Bennet and Lucas women. Mrs. Bennet, the consummate husband hunter, was advising her daughter not to dance with him because he was so "eaten up with pride". Miss Bennet promised her mother to never dance with him. The next scene was from Lucas Lodge. Darcy remembered it well. Sir William Lucas asked Miss Bennet to dance with Darcy. She refused him. Darcy asked her to dance at Netherfield while she was nursing her sister. She refused him again. Darcy suddenly realized she hadn't been playing coy, she had genuinely refused to dance with him because she was hurt by his remarks about her at their first encounter.

The images in the window moved to the Netherfield ball. The lady was talking to (the current) Mrs. Collins when he, Darcy, had taken her by surprise in asking her to dance. She said 'yes' only because she couldn't think of a way to say 'no' while continuing to enjoy her evening. As he walked away, Mrs. Collins (Miss Lucas at the time) was telling Miss Bennet she would enjoy the dance. Miss Bennet told Miss Lucas it would be a misfortune to find agreeable someone she was determined to hate.

Darcy's shoulders drooped as he thought about those same events. He thought she was flirting with him. He had been a fool.

The Meryton Assembly. He had been exhausted and suffering a headache from a difficult journey (his carriage had broken a wheel), he had been still embittered by Ramsgate, and Miss Bingley had threatened to keep him company at Netherfield if he didn't go. What choice did he have? He hated large crowds and all around him he could hear himself discussed as if he were a prize stud at auction. Bingley's suggestion that he join the dance was obviously a ploy to ingratiate himself with his pretty blonde dance partner. He wanted nothing to do with that evening. Yes, he had seen her. Yes, he realized she probably heard his stinging words. No, she wasn't just _tolerable_. She was quite pretty, but in a very different way than her sister. Darcy had felt guilty right after he said it and was going to ask her to dance in apology, but she rose from her seat with a smirk on her face. With her head held high, she went to her friend and started laughing, making him feel even more out of place at the county dance.

At Lucas Lodge, he had been pleasantly surprised when Sir William asked her to dance with him. He was disappointed when she turned him down. He hadn't been sure how to read her response—"Mr. Darcy is all politeness."—but he now saw she was being sweetly sarcastic. Similarly at Netherfield while caring for her sister, her response was sweetly defiant. Darcy finally realized she hadn't been toying with him, she had been protecting her sensibilities from his scorn.

At the Netherfield ball, he was determined to dance with her, but was only able to go accomplish it by surprising her. He was more delighted than he expected when she agreed, although he knew she would not reject him. Women in her position did not reject him.

Then they danced. It was a mess. He couldn't think of anything to say so she took charge of the conversation. It was entertaining until she brought Wickham into it.

Elizabeth was now mesmerized watching the scenes dancing in the window behind Mr. Darcy. She wasn't quite sure what to make of them. She knew them well, had relived them frequently, and used them to fortify her dislike of Darcy. But now the scenes were being played from a different angle. Maybe she should rethink her version of what happened?

Darcy, still lost in his thoughts, was cursing Wickham. He thought back to of all the times he had been beaten for crimes Wickham had committed. All the miscreant deeds Wickham had done while up at university on Father's money. Wickham's greed after Father died and his audacity in coming back for more. Finally, Wickham's mistreatment of his own dear sister. He knew it was beneath him to speak poorly of others, but maybe he should tell Miss Bennet of Wickham's deeds so she would be warned?. Of course, Wickham may have noticed his regard for Miss Bennet and try to hurt her to injure him. Yes, he must warn her about Wickham once this ordeal was over.

What if it was Wickham who set this up? Darcy wouldn't put it past him, though this was much more work than Wickham had ever been willing to put into anything.

As Darcy pondered, the images behind him switched from the Netherfield ball to images of Mr. Wickham doing depraved things. Miss Elizabeth watched, hardly believing what she saw. Mr. Wickham taking large sums of money in recompense for the living he was willed! Wickham trying to convince a shy young blonde girl to elope, Wickham crushing the poor girl's spirit when her guardians intervened. Mr. Wickham was no gentleman! He was a fiend!

What were the scenes on the windows? Before the images of Mr. Wickham, the window showed a different version of what she herself had been thinking. What were those images? Were they dreams dancing across the glass? If so, whose dreams? (3)

* * *

my description doesn't adequately explain it, this "window" is actually a tv or screen. They have been placed into the research room of an advanced society so they can be studied.

2\. I see the creatures, and Mr. Collins, as looking like Gru from the movie Despicable Me. Interestingly enough, I was people watching the day before I re-wrote this section and saw a man that fit the description. He had a normal sized head and body (though he was wearing a bulky jacket, so I may have been deceived), but his legs were twice as long as his body and twig thin. That's what I envision these creatures looking like, except in funky colors. Maybe neon or tie dye.

3\. Just a few notes:

don't recognize the other in the screens because memories and thoughts are usually from our own point of view - so we aren't seeing ourselves in the action when we remember stuff. Or at least I'm not.

b.I've changed 'Miss Elizabeth' to 'Miss Bennet' when it's Darcy's perspective. I went through P&P, and that's how he refers to her in the book when Jane isn't around. Otherwise he calls her 'Miss Elizabeth Bennet'.

Another Note: This story was originally written as I Know What You Are Thinking. An alien abduction story I wrote while in a silly mood a couple of years ago. As I had time on vacation to re-read and do some significant clean up, I'm removing what used to be here and posting the updated version for your enjoyment. And changing the name, or at least trying to.

Enjoy.


	3. Watching the Windows

Ch 2 - Watching the Windows

"Miss Bennet, I would like to apologize to you for the horrible things I said at the Meryton Assembly. My only defense is that I was in no mood for noise or crowds, yet felt forced to go. Had I not, Miss Bingley threatened to entertain me. I ask your forgiveness."

Elizabeth considered for a moment. She thought of Jane and how she always thought the best and easily forgave others. Having such a kind disposition made Jane a happy person. Elizabeth strove to be more like Jane. Behind her, Darcy watched a scene play out with a girl accidently spilling ink on a dress. The girl then asked a young Miss Jane Bennet for forgiveness. Miss Jane Bennet hugged the girl, quickly and easily offering her forgiveness.

"I forgive you Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said.

As she wrinkled her eyebrows in thought, Elizabeth asked, "Mr. Darcy, I wonder what these images behind us show." She blushed a bit in embarrassment thinking of some of the earlier scenes behind Mr. Darcy, but continued. "Some of the images were clearly not of real events, but what I saw behind you a moment ago felt like watching a memory. Mr. Wickham was doing the most heartless things to you and to a young girl." Elizabeth looked directly at Mr. Darcy, wanting him to answer the question she had only implied at while dancing at Netherfield. "Are these images true? Did Mr. Wickham really take so much money, only to now accuse you of denying him the living?"

"Yes," Darcy said simply, relieved that he wouldn't have to find a way to gently inform her of Wickham's duplicity.

Elizabeth was horrified. How had she not seen through his artifice?

On the screen behind her, Darcy could see Wickham spinning his usual web of lies and flirting shamelessly. Feeling his anger rising, Darcy vowed that once freed from this imprisonment he would finally put an end to Wickham's swindling. At that moment, he wished to get his hands on Wickham so he could knock a few teeth out of his head. Or more.

Behind Darcy, Miss Elizabeth saw someone punching Mr. Wickham in the face, breaking his teeth and bloodying his nose.

Darcy saw Miss Bennet's face change from frustration to surprise as she watched the window behind him. Cursing his selfishness, he pledged to be more sympathetic to how she was feeling. Wickham had betrayed her trust. Miss Bennet must be realizing how dangerous the man could be. Darcy still wanted to take her in his arms and protect her and just hold her close to him all night long.

Elizabeth's countenance changed once again as she saw an image playing behind Mr. Darcy of her willingly allowing a man to put his arms around her; she was appalled! As she tried to work out what the images were, where they came from, what they meant, she felt certain the images in the window were seen through Mr. Darcy's eyes.

Yet these images were obviously NOT memories! She had never and would never allow any man into her chambers, or allow a man to do any of those things to her, particularly the puffed-up Mr. Darcy who thought her beneath him. (Even though he had asked her to marry him and later apologized for saying she was tolerable, she hadn't had time to break her habit of thinking of him as most arrogant.) A flimsy recognition began to awaken in her as to what these images may portray.

If only her father could see these things, Elizabeth believed he would challenge Mr. Darcy to a duel. Or at least cause some injury to the insolent man.

On the screen behind her, Darcy watched an image of Mr. Bennet beating him over the head with a shovel. Darcy was aghast, quickly donning his mask of aloofness.

"MR. DARCY!" When Darcy looked down from seeing his image being beaten bloody, Miss Bennet was looking at him in angry suspicion. "What, may I ask, are your thoughts right now?"

Behind Miss Bennet, the image now showed the woman herself beating him with a shovel.

"I have no particular thoughts at this moment," he said in his most detached voice. It wasn't true. In his mind he wrestled the shovel from Miss Bennet and in the ensuing struggle they fell to the ground in each others arms, leading to a passionate embrace...

"ARGHHHH! MR. DARCY! Are you, at this moment, thinking about KISSING me!?"

Darcy snapped out of his reverie. How the blazes did she know that? "Umm, no?" he cautiously lied.

She leaned as far forward as her confinement would allow, peering angrily into his eyes, calling him out as a perjurer. "Then why, pray tell, does the window behind you show such scenes? They show them from YOUR perspective. Everything in the window has been seen from from your eyes."

Darcy's eyes grew huge with realization. She could see his thoughts! Damn! He wanted to smack himself with a wet sack. Or just melted into the floor with mortification.

"HAH! If I weren't stuck to this seat, I would happily smack you with the wet sack. Now you are seeing yourself dissolve into the floor, aren't you?" She asked in triumph.

Darcy closed his eyes and tried to make himself as small as possible. Neither of which helped his current situation.

FUCK! She's been seeing my thoughts? What the hell have I been thinking? NO WAIT! Don't think anything you don't want her to see. Nothing. Think of nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

"Are you thinking of nothing?," she asked.

Darcy sighed in relief. It worked. "That is correct, madam. I am thinking of nothing right now." Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

Elizabeth laughed. "The word 'nothing' is flashing on the window behind you."

Darcy rolled his eyes in frustration. How was he going to get through this if she could see his thoughts? Then recognition dawned. If she was seeing his thoughts that must mean the images on her window were her thoughts. Maybe he could save himself some embarrassment by paying attention to her thoughts rather than his own. What was on her window?

Elizabeth's window showed what he must look like right now. Shackled to a chair with the window behind him flashing "Nothing" and his face clearly showing his mortification.

"So, Mr. Darcy, you are a flawed human like the rest of us after all," she said with a small grin.

"Why would you think otherwise? I've told you before I have plenty of faults," he responded while thinking of Miss Bennet's time caring for her sister at Netherfield. But not in too much detail and not adding any of his own proclivities, it would not do to let his thoughts go to their usual direction.

Behind Miss Elizabeth, the window showed she was also thinking of the scene he forced into his mind. The absurdity of Miss Bingley asking her to walk around the room, Miss Bennet declaring that Mr. Darcy himself owned he has no defect. That memory was soon followed by other memories of her time caring for her sister. Obviously Miss Bennet had felt Bingley the only welcoming presence in the household.

Darcy gently asked, "Miss Bennet, did you feel Bingley was the only one who enjoyed your company at Netherfield while you cared for your sister?"

Elizabeth lowered her eyes. It had been a difficult few days. She had tried to avoid interacting with the residents as it was usually so unpleasant. "I did. Mr. Bingley was everything that was polite and amiable. The others were very obvious in their disdain." Behind her showed when he ignored her in the library on their last day.

"It wasn't that way, Miss Bennet," Darcy said softly. "I was trying to not raise expectations I could not fill, but each time I spoke to you I found my own expectations rising." Behind Darcy flashed a quick succession of images of parents trying to negotiate a marriage, women accusing him of disappointed prospects, and of women actively trying to compromise him, but none of the images showed anyone who cared about him. Their interest was mainly the estate he inherited.

Miss Bennet was shocked at some of the things she saw, they went well beyond what most gentlewomen were taught—particularly what some women had done to entrap poor Mr. Darcy. She started to feel sorry for Mr. Darcy. How difficult it would be if everyone around you viewed you only as a property.

Darcy saw himself displayed behind Miss Bennet. It looked like they were walking in a garden or some woods together. He smiled. He would love to go on walks with her. In the garden, but even better in the woods where they could find some quiet grove where no one would find them. He had a beautiful waterfall at Pemberley he could take her to. They could even go swimming. He would be most happy to help her out of her …

"MR. DARCY!," Miss Bennet cried, exasperated. "I was just starting to feel sorry for you and then THAT! Do you really think of compromising me so frequently?"

Darcy closed his eyes and sighed. He obviously couldn't keep his thoughts well regulated. He was already utterly humiliated, it couldn't get much worse. "Yes," he answered quietly with his eyes on the floor.

Miss Bennet opened her mouth to say something, but no words would come out. She wasn't sure if she was angry, shocked, or flattered. She closed her mouth while trying to think of something to say.

Behind her were images of Mr. Bennet teaching her as he would a son. In her mind she was scanning the books of her father's library, but not finding what she was looking for. Obviously parts of her education were missing.

Behind Darcy the window kept flashing "Nothing," while he waited for her to say something.

"But your thoughts, sir. It seems most of your thoughts lead to…compromising situations," she stammered.

"Not always. When I think of business, Wickham, Richard, Lady Catherine, my sister, or the like, the thoughts don't lead to…situations. That pleasure is reserved for you.."

Elizabeth looked up at him, confused. "Why?"

Darcy sighed. He only thought Wickham had humiliated him in the past. This thought-window behind him had sliced his belly open and laid his innards bare for her to see. He opened his eyes and looked at her. "I don't find them attractive. Unlike you. You are guileless, caring, witty, genuine, and you rejoice in everything around you. Quite simply, you are alive. If not for the expectations of my family, I would have offered for you in Hertfordshire."

Elizabeth was shocked. Her thought-window showed Darcy staring at her in Hertfordshire, the stares she thought were meant to find blemishes, when a window appeared behind his head. It showed him thinking about holding her and kissing her.

Darcy watched with embarrassed amusement. That was most likely what he had been thinking, except he had taken it much farther. And now that he knew what she looked like under her clothes (thanks to her earlier images of being freed from her stays) his mental wanderings could be much more—detailed.

"MR. DARCY!"

Oops. Shouldn't have thought about seeing that. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

"Mr. Darcy, is that really what you were thinking while you were staring at me all the time?"

He dropped his head, and lifted his eyes guiltily to hers. No use trying to hide the truth. "Most often, though not all the time."

"Oh." She paused for a moment to think. "I thought you were finding fault with me. I couldn't see any other reason."

"I assure you, madam, I was not finding fault." Of course not. He was too busy finding her lips, her throat, her back, her hips, her breasts, her…

"MR. DARCY!" She sighed, exasperated. "Is there anyway to stop such thoughts? It's very disturbing for me to see myself in such situations with someone I do not know well and when I have not given my consent."

Darcy closed his eyes. He had not thought of that. What if the windows were reversed and it was her undressing him. He wouldn't mind so much… Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

A brief image of Elizabeth undressing Darcy appeared on his window. Thankfully for both, it was quickly followed by a flashing "Nothing".

Elizabeth's natural curiosity ended up getting the better of her. None of her father's books showed what Mr. Darcy's thoughts were now showing her. This would be probably be the only time she could ask such questions and be assured of receiving an answer—even if it was only a visual answer. Now was her chance to ask him whatever questions she thought of. After all, he had not asked her permission to violate her in his mind.

"Mr. Darcy, do all men think like this?"

"I think most of them do. Many are worse."

"Worse?"

"Wickham is worse. My thoughts only go that direction when I'm thinking of you. His go that direction when he sees a skirt, it doesn't matter who it is attached to."

"Even old men, like my father?" She pictured her father with a window behind his head. Revolting!

Darcy smiled. "I don't know about your father, but I know some older men who are much like Wickham."

Elizabeth considered what she had learned. "Does Mr. Bingley?"

Darcy cocked his eyebrow. "Bingley is too much of a gentleman to speak of such things."

"Then how do you know about Wickham and the old men like him."

"They openly talk about it in grotesque detail when ladies aren't about. Most men have more respect for women than to speak—no brag—of their actions toward them in such a lurid way as Wickham."

Again, Elizabeth considered for a moment. "But what about Mr. Bingley? Does he think of women like that?"

Darcy thought about Bingley as well as his own role in separating him from Miss Jane Bennet. Unfortunately for Darcy, that meant the whole scene played out on the window behind him so Elizabeth also knew the intimate details of his role in separating Miss Jane Bennet from Mr. Bingley. Before Elizabeth could lay into him about it, Darcy thought about the last time he had seen Bingley. The poor guy was still pining for her sister, but Darcy was still convinced Miss Jane Bennet felt nothing for Bingley. "Bingley's thoughts probably do the same when he thinks of your sister. Although I'm sure he's thought of others in that way before he met her."

"You told Mr. Bingley that Jane doesn't love him! You saw no signs of it! How could you do such a thing?" She glared at him. "Quite hypocritical from you of all people—only today have you admitted your admiration for me that dates almost since you met me, yet I saw only revulsion. Jane never slighted Mr. Bingley like you did me. She acted like a gentlewoman is supposed to! You worked with his malicious sisters to keep it from him that Jane is in town. Sir, do you run all of your friend's lives like this?"

Behind Miss Bennet, Darcy saw Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Miss Jane Bennet talking in their bed at night. He heard the sadness, saw Miss Bennet hugging her sister and trying to raise her spirits. So Miss Jane Bennet really did care for Bingley. When they were returned, he would pen a note to Bingley immediately admitting is error.

"No, I don't. I felt like your sister would be forced to accept any offer he might give. Bingley is a kind soul. and I didn't want to see his spirit crushed in a mercenary marriage. He is the one friend who can always cheer me up. I see from your window that I was wrong. Neither you nor your sister are of that sort. It was difficult for me to know considering many of the things your mother said the night of the ball. I will send him a note as soon as we are returned telling him I was wrong and letting him know his Miss Bennet is in London. I'll send the address if you will give it to me."

Elizabeth took a deep breath and calmed herself. Mr. Darcy did have a point. "Mama loves us, but she can be a bit—forceful. She is worried about our well-being. Our estate is entailed so when Papa dies we lose everything to Mr. Collins. However, no matter what Mama thinks, Papa will not force us to marry." Elizabeth shuddered as she remembered the appalling proposal from Mr. Collins and her father's rescue.

Darcy's mien darkened as he watched the bungled proposal play out behind Miss Bennet. He had seen the man—if you could really call him a man—at the ball. He had been a horrendous dance partner for Miss Bennet and then had gone on later to babble at him without receiving an introduction.

That repulsive toad had asked Miss Bennet to marry him? And proceeded to insult her at the same time! What a cad. Poor Miss Bennet. Must have been awful for her. She won't have to worry about offers like that or being thrown out of her house when she married him and moved to Pemberley.

Before he realized what he was doing, he was back to his old habits of thinking about what marriage to Miss Bennet would mean—both the good and the bad. The good would be her by him always. That would make up for a lot of bad. Of course there would still be her family to consider—her shrill, fortune hunting mother, unrestrained younger sisters, and indolent father. Her lack of connections or money would mean much of his family and his society may not accept her. Then again, he would be finally marrying, so at least his family—excepting Aunt Catherine—would be happy. He would produce an heir. And what fun that would be with lively Elizabeth…

"PLEASE, SIR!"

Oops. How was he supposed to remember she could see his thoughts! He was wondering how, exactly, those thoughts had been displayed and how much she knew.

"Mr. Darcy, I realize you don't approve of my family, which makes your OTHER thoughts even more offensive. How can you think of me in such a way while being so disrespectful of everything that made me who I am?"

Darcy felt the shame. "Madam, I believe we all have relatives we aren't particularly proud of." A huge image of Lady Catherine dispensing her wisdom was displayed behind Darcy.

Elizabeth laughed. "We also all have some relatives to admire, even if they may be in trade." Behind her displayed the image of a fashionable couple who had obviously been a large part of her life. Which explained the vast difference between oldest two Bennets and their younger sisters.

Elizabeth decided to try to direct his thoughts in a more appropriate direction. "Sir, what is your sister like? Besides being most accomplished."

"Georgiana? She's been a treasure in my life. She sees me as more father than brother, as she's more than ten years my junior. Our mother died shortly after her birth, so I have always given extra care to her when at home to help make up for the loss. Our father never spent much time with her as he did not know what to do with a daughter. I was easier for him to spend time with as he knew what I needed to be taught: How to run the estate and the other things he had learned as a boy. Georgiana's spent most of her time with servants or our aunts. For her, it is even more difficult to converse with strangers than it is for me—if you can believe it."

Darcy went on, talking about things he had done with his sister. The window showed how much love they had for one another. No matter how she felt about Mr. Darcy's treatment of her or his disdain of her family and friends, Elizabeth was glad he was able to give such joy to his sister. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all, once you became better acquainted with him?

Having grown accustomed to thinking of Mr. Darcy as being cold and without any proper feelings, this new insight to his character surprised Elizabeth and made her realize he was capable of much more than she had credited him with. He was capable of great love.

Watching Darcy with his sister playing across his window made Elizabeth think on her own family and the sadness if she never made it back to her home. Sharing a room, a bed, and secrets with Jane. Trimming bonnets and dancing around the house with the younger girls while Mary played for them. And her dearest father, who had always teased her as being his cleverest daughter; she would sorely miss his wisdom, even when given as biting wit. He had allowed her freedom to learn anything she wanted, although she now realized there was a gap in her education which Mr. Darcy's thoughts now seemed to be filling.

She couldn't understand how Mr. Darcy's mind kept going there. She glanced up at his window, it showed him enjoying a horseback ride with his sister. His sister seems to be a safe subject for him, she thought.

Just then, while Mr. Darcy innocently reminisced about spending time with his sister, Elizabeth's devilishly curious mind began to wonder about those indecent things Mr. Darcy had thought earlier. She wondered what it would be like to be held and kissed by Mr. Darcy. Would it be formal and perfunctory, like the man she was used to seeing? Like how she had feared it would be with Mr. Collins? Elizabeth shuddered in disgust before remembering that's not what his window had shown. His window showed warmth and tenderness. What if he was really as affectionate as his window showed? What would it feel like to be embraced by someone like that? She did think him very handsome, if only he wasn't so unpleasant. Yet now she knew he wasn't always unpleasant. And he obviously saw her as more than tolerable. So how would it feel to be touched by such a man, held by him, kissed by him?

She started to feel a bit warm when she noticed Darcy had stopped talking. She glanced up. His window was empty. When she looked at him, he was watching her window with a wolfish grin. He dropped his eyes to hers, imitating her earlier cries. "MISS BENNET! Do you really think of compromising me so?" His grin grew larger and his voice grew husky. "Once we are freed, I can demonstrate it for you."

Elizabeth was mortified. Now it was her turn to want to melt into the floor. She would never be able to look at him again! She would have to hide or lock herself in her room until he left Rosings. Neither her mother nor sisters had ever embarrassed her as much as she had just embarrassed herself.

Darcy couldn't help a small laugh. "I believe, my dear Miss Bennet, we have both been thoroughly humiliated by having our thoughts displayed," he grinned.

Elizabeth glared at him. She wanted to slap that grin off his face, but, of course, he saw it and laughed again. His window had a quick glimpse of him intercepting her hand and pulling her close before it started flashing, "Nothing".

Elizabeth sighed. There was nothing to do but change the subject. "How long have we been here?"

Darcy, realizing what she was trying to do, shrugged and went along. "I have no way of knowing."

"Are we to just be kept in these chairs until your ransom is paid?"

"I know no more than you do."

Elizabeth looked up. There was no way out.

Elizabeth found herself feeling hopeless at the prospect of not being released and what was yet in store for her. Knowing such feelings would serve no good purpose, she began to thinking back to happy memories of her walks, her books, her times with her aunt and uncle in London, and her friends and family.

Darcy smiled watching her memories. They were sweet and pure and similar to his own childhood memories. He had reservations about aligning himself with her family, but none about aligning himself with her. He knew what it would be like if he were to marry Anne or Miss Bingley or one of the others. There would be no love; he would be lucky to even have friendship. His wife would live her life, and he would live his, only coming together to have the required heir, maybe a spare, and for society's show. He had watched as his friends and acquaintances married. Most had kept their mistresses or quickly obtained a new one. Their wives found lovers as well. Up until this point, Darcy saw no value in marriage besides producing an heir. While he both wanted and needed to have children, he also wanted his wife's children to be his own.

Miss Bennet was different. Life with her would be a partnership. She would love the country more than the estate. She would help him fulfill his duties to his heritage, not just by having children, but also by respecting the land and the people. It wasn't long after he had met her before she started naturally appearing beside him in his thoughts of his favorite places around Pemberley. She seemed to belong there and having her beside him felt—whole. While he had envisioned her beside him at his townhome, particularly in his chambers, he hadn't thought about her on his arm at social events. What would it be like? Would they eat her alive?

Once again Elizabeth was treated to quite a show watching his thoughts progress. She found it terribly sad that in all of those marriages for money and connections there was no love or affection. The men's mistresses and the women's lovers took her by surprise, though her father had never hidden that such things often happen. Albeit, her father had given her a much tamer version than Darcy's thoughts. Then she watched herself touring a magnificent estate with a library beyond her dreams. Was that where he lived? Were there two libraries?

That library. Elizabeth could imagine herself living in it. So many things to read and learn.

"That's my library at Pemberley," Darcy stated simply as he watched her thoughts mirror his own. "The larger one is. The smaller one is in the house in town."

Elizabeth started. "They are lovely." She smiled and tried to lighten her somber mood. "I do believe if I had the opportunity, I would move into a small corner and content myself forever."

Darcy's eyes sparkled. "I do believe you would, madam." She didn't know there was a hidden passage between the library and his chambers. Darcy could see himself carrying her back to his room so she would have a proper bed to sleep in. With him curled up behind her. Stroking her… Oops. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

When he looked back at her, she was looking at him with her eyebrows were scrunched in thought. She thought about that scenario, but she thought she would be rather upset to be taken from such a library. Would it be worth it? Behind her, Darcy saw her aggravation at being removed from the library. He laughed. "I should have known you would prefer my books to my company. What if I were to sit with you and read?" Of course in his mind, he was reading while stretched out on the large chair, his feet on the footstool, with her reading her book while curled in his lap with his arms around her.

"That would be fine, sir," she answered before looking behind him, after seeing his perspective, she rolled her eyes. Her window had them sitting nearby one another, but in separate chairs. Then that evil part of her brain once again started wondering, taking cues from the images Mr. Darcy's window showed. How it would feel to be curled up in Mr. Darcy's lap? Warm. She knew it would be warm. And more.

Darcy smiled as he saw her thoughts again mirroring his own.

At that moment, the door opened and the Collins-shaped creatures entered the room. Darcy and Elizabeth looked at one another in concern. What was to happen now?

The creatures moved toward them, removing the sieves from their heads as the windows behind them went black. They still could not lift themselves from their seats as a white cloud began to fill the room.

"Mr. Darcy! What is this?" Called Elizabeth, as her eyes began to close.

Darcy was unable to respond, as he felt his body relax into oblivion.

* * *

Note: I'm so sorry for taking so long to post the rest of this. It's all ready to go so I'll post this and the re-revise the end and post it within a week. I was traveling for the month of Sept and grossly underestimated how much I had to catch up on when I arrived home. Thank you for your understanding.


	4. Freedom! Sort of

Elizabeth began to regain consciousness. Opening her eyes, she found herself laying on Charlotte's couch with a warmth surrounding her, an unknown weight across her hip. Behind her, she felt someone else begin to awaken.

Mr. Darcy! She was sleeping with Mr. Darcy!

Before she could launch herself from the couch she recognized that this is what it felt like to sleep with Mr. Darcy. It was a surprisingly nice sensation. But for propriety's sake, she must remove herself lest they be caught.

Darcy felt her begin to fall and tightened his grip on her hip to help keep her on the couch. She slipped through his grasp and separated them. It was for the best, though he did enjoy the feeling of her laying beside him. He sat up, watching her right her skirts to stand.

"Are you well?" How many times had he asked her that question this evening?

"I am well. We are back at the parsonage," Elizabeth looked around as she pushed herself off the floor. Looking at Darcy, she smiled. "We've been returned," she whispered in amazement.

Before she could move away, Darcy reached out and wrap his arms around her. He then pulled her into a passionate kiss. It was warm and soft and so much more. He was never letting her go. Pulling away slightly, he asked, "Is it what you expected, dear?"

Elizabeth's eyes were still closed and her lips slightly parted. She cracked her eyes slightly and looked at him. "No. Maybe you should try it again so I can know if I like it" Her mouth slowly spread into a smile.

Growling, Darcy hauled her into his lap as he put his hand behind her head to pull her into another kiss.

They hadn't heard the door open, but they did hear Miss Maria Lucas giggle. When Darcy looked up, he watched Mrs. Collins' shocked expression turn into one of disapproval.

"Mr. Darcy!" Mrs. Collins challenged. "What are you doing to my friend?! And in my parlor!"

Elizabeth stiffened, automatically trying to remove herself from Mr. Darcy's embrace. He tightened his hold on her—he wasn't letting her get away now. He looking Mrs. Collins in the eye and with his devilish half-grin announced, "I'm compromising her."

To say Elizabeth was horrified would be an understatement. She knew what happened to women when their reputations were compromised. While she had enjoyed Mr. Darcy's kisses, even encouraged the second one, to be caught! But for him to say such a thing to Charlotte! What was he thinking? She struggled to put a bit of space between them.

Yet Darcy held on. It was better this way, he thought. His heart had made a decision six months before, now his cautious side would have no say. He looked like a rake, she looked unwilling. The young girl ran out of the room in hysterics. Servants came into the room. Good. More witnesses. No way out.

He whispered in her ear, "All will be well. I'll take care of it," then let her go.

As Elizabeth struggled to her feet and straightened out her skirts and hair, Mr. Darcy looked at Mrs. Collins. "Madam, please allow me a few minutes of privacy to talk to Miss Bennet."

"Sir, you attacked her! We heard you make a noise and saw you pull her down and force your attentions on her! I cannot leave my friend alone with one such as you. You are not to be trusted, sir." Mrs. Collins moved quickly to pull Elizabeth behind her.

As Darcy scrutinized Mrs. Collins, she quietly asked Elizabeth if she was injured. When Elizabeth assured her friend she was well, Charlotte asked Elizabeth what she wanted done. Did she wish to speak to Mr. Darcy or should Mrs. Collins send him away?

"I shall speak with him, Charlotte," she quietly assured her friend.

"Sir," Mrs. Collins announced. "You may speak with my friend, but the door must remain open and I will be in the other room. With the fire iron." With a glare, she warned, "Do not accost my friend again." Charlotte looked in askance at Elizabeth. Once Elizabeth nodded her assurance, Charlotte moved to the other room.

Once Charlotte left, Darcy quietly and gently spoke. "Miss Bennet, you know being locked in a room together for so long means you either have to marry or have your reputation, and your sisters by default, ruined. Being caught by Mrs. Collins just reinforces what already had to happen."

Elizabeth quietly responded. "How can you say such a thing, sir?" She suddenly remembered Anne de Bourgh. "Are you not betrothed to your cousin? No matter what your thoughts say about your desires, they also show I am beneath you in every way. I would bring no fortune, no connections. Those are what your family demands of you. I will sail to one of the colonies if that's what it takes to save my sisters, but I will not be forced into a marriage with one who does not respect me."

Tears welled up in her eyes as she realized he was correct. She was beneath him. Her mind was spinning. A few hours ago, or was it a few moments, she hated Mr. Darcy. Now she was going to have to marry him? She knew he was not a bad man, she knew her previous beliefs were incorrect, she knew she could care for the gentleman in the odd room, but it was all happening so fast. She was now ruined. That stupid kiss made things go from bad to worse. One way or another, she would have to leave her family to save her sisters. It was too awful to consider.

Gently he asked, "Do you honestly believe me to be such an ogre?"

She looked behind him. "Sir, there is no longer a window in which I can see your thoughts. I don't know," she sighed, sounded defeated. He struggled to keep himself from reaching for her again, but Mrs. Collins was sitting in the other room glaring at him and holding a fire iron in her hand.

"I'm not. I would never deny you your family. They are a part of you and you are a part of me." He smiled at her. "Don't forget, you will have to accept my aunt, Lady Catherine, who is far more difficult to endure than anyone I've met from your family. I promise, she will not make it easy for you."

"Are you not engaged to your cousin?"

He smiled. "Just because Aunt Catherine believes something has never made that something true. The union is her dream, not mine nor Anne's. I barely know Anne." Darcy chuckled slightly, remembering something from his youth. "Richard says Aunt Catherine denied the baby food in the womb because she wasn't willing to share even then. Anne's mind is poor as well as her health. She's never been capable of learning." He rolled his eyes. "Which makes Aunt Catherine's remarks about Anne's accomplishments even more absurd."

"Do you honestly think you can respect me?"

"I already do. I ardently admire and love you."

Elizabeth chuckled. "Ardently?"

"Ardently."

She smiled sadly up at him. "I have no choice, do I?"

"I would love to say no, but you always have choices. If you choose to say yes, choose it for yourself. Choose it because even if you do not love me now, you will love me. I do not want a marriage of convenience. I want a partnership. I want passion. I want all you have to give, as I will give you my all."

Elizabeth recognized the man from the window was a man she could respect and love. "Yes, Mr. Darcy. Yes, I will give you my all." She raised her eyebrows in warning. "You may not find it all to your liking, but it's yours now." She had started to move past her habit of disliking Mr. Darcy, deciding now he was a most amiable gentleman. Usually.

"Thank you, dearest! I would kiss you again, but I think Mrs. Collins will gore me," he said, glancing into the other room. She was still watching over her friend protectively. "You do inspire loyalty in people."

"Charlotte is a very loyal friend indeed," she laughed.

"I do not want a long engagement."

Elizabeth could imagine her mother's raptures for the next few months, but that little devil inside of her wanted to experience Mr. Darcy's thoughts. "I prefer the same."

"Good. I shall leave tomorrow to ask your father, stopping by my solicitor's office on the way to procure a special license. We can marry in London in two or three weeks time."

"So soon! I'm not scheduled to return home for two weeks!"

"I was considering that. Aunt Catherine will probably be somewhat…unstable…when I tell her. She's not accustomed to not getting her way and this will be a huge blow for her. I have no way of predicting what she may do. For your own safety, I would like you to leave Hunsford when I leave Rosings. You can ride with me. Would Mrs. Collins' sister be able to join us or should I procure a maid to accompany us?"

"This is so quick, sir. When I preferred a short engagement, I didn't expect this! My aunt and uncle expect me at their house in a week. I am to spend a few days there, then Jane will be riding back to Hertfordshire with Maria and me."

"Could you change it? We can send an express informing them of the change with some reason for your leaving early. If you are not able to stay with your aunt and uncle, you may stay with my sister as her guest. It creates an opportunity for you to meet her; she is going to adore you," he grinned. "I will bring your family back with me if you would like them with you."

"Let me ask if Maria can join me. I shall send an express. Elizabeth thought on the rest of Mr. Darcy's plans. "If you are asking my father's permission, I should be there or he may not give consent. Even then, he may be resistant. When I left, I didn't hold you in the highest opinion."

Darcy put his hands in the air, making sure Mrs. Collins would not come after him, then leaned into Elizabeth's ear and whispered, "But what about now? Has your opinion changed, my dearest?"

Elizabeth smiled, "Yes. Yes, it has. Most significantly."

He nuzzled her ear for a moment, "Good." He then pulled away and put his hands back on his lap. "Shall we tell the gaoler over there?"

Elizabeth laughed and turned to her friend, calling out, "Charlotte, join us. We would like to share our news."

Charlotte was quick to offer congratulations and just as quick to realize the potential benefits to her family from the connection, agreeing it was best for Elizabeth to leave once Lady Catherine found out and that Maria should accompany her for the well being of them both.

Elizabeth and Charlotte both wrote their families to explain their early departure, saying Lady Catherine was suffering from an undisclosed indisposition and greatly needed the assistance of the parson and his wife. It was close enough to the truth, even though the indisposition wouldn't happen until the next day.

While the ladies were writing their letters, Darcy wrote to his solicitor requesting a marriage settlement and a special license, then penned another to Bingley confessing his mistake and interference as well as providing Bingley with the Gardiner's address.

While Darcy was writing, Charlotte asked Elizabeth, "Did you see the meteor? It flew over Hunsford a few minutes before Maria and I arrived home."

Elizabeth was shocked but was not about to tell her what she and Mr. Darcy had experienced. "I hadn't! We saw it grow bright outside, but that was all."

"It was quite spectacular. It looked as though it touched the earth before returning to the heavens."

Elizabeth and Darcy looked at one another askance. Neither knew what it may have been, but they did know it was responsible for their most unusual experience.

As he had proven his intentions honorable, Darcy was afforded a few moments of privacy upon leaving. He stole a passionate kiss, then told her he would tell Lady Catherine in the morning as he was leaving. He would need to let Colonel Fitzwilliam know that night so he could prepare to leave with them.

Before he left, Elizabeth had one more question. "Are you sure you really want to do this so quickly, Mr. Darcy?"

He drew near, put his mouth beside her ear, and whispered, "There is nothing I want more."


	5. Epilogue

Epilogue

The group left the next morning with Lady Catherine storming behind the carriage yelling things about, "corrupting the shades of Pemberley" and, "what about Anne? Who will marry Anne?" Elizabeth felt sympathy for her dear friend but was once again relieved not to be Mrs. Collins.

Elizabeth and Maria were welcomed into Gardiner home. Darcy dropped off Colonel Fitzwilliam, met with his solicitor, then the next day traveled to Meryton where he asked Mr. Bennet for Elizabeth's hand. After coming to realize Mr. Darcy was not jesting with him, Mr. Bennet agreed with the condition Elizabeth give her unconditional consent. He would travel with Mr. Darcy to London the next day, and Elizabeth would become Mrs. Darcy the day after. Mr. Bennet was not happy with the rush but decided he would rather not know if there was a gravid reason for it. (1) He didn't want to consider his Elizabeth doing such things.

When Mr. Bennet announced it to his family, his wife carelessly asked, "La, we all know Lizzy refuses to ever get married. Why would she marry the dour Mr. Darcy?" Mary wished them joy in God's love. Kitty was too stunned to speak. Lydia demonstrated her selfishness by wailing her disappointment at not being the first one to marry.

While Mr. Darcy was gone to get permission, Bingley made the trip to Gracechurch street to learn if Jane would see him. Of course, gentle and kind Jane did see him, but with the proper amount of caution. At first, Bingley wasn't going to forgive Darcy but decided it would be better to forgive and stand up with Darcy since Jane would be standing with Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

Everyone had a happily ever after. The Darcys had a horde of witty and energetic children who brought laughter and light into the halls of Pemberley. The Bingleys had a horde of gentle and kind children who took care of their more exuberant cousins. Mary married a parson. Kitty and Lydia married army men.

At times, the Darcy's wished to have a thought reading machine of their own. Even though they searched far and wide, there were never able to find one. During a particularly frustrating disagreement, Mrs. Darcy pushed Mr. Darcy into a chair and put the kitchen sieve on his head, telling him his mouth would have to describe what should be displayed in the window. It worked. Ever after Mr. Darcy knew when Mrs. Darcy came after him with the colander, he needed to stop keeping his thoughts to himself and share them. He quickly found life to be much more joyous when he could share his burden, although he found it was still fun to have her chase him with the colander.

Wickham made the mistake of having a fling with a crazed woman. When he tried to leave her, she tracked him down and gave him the choice: marriage (and faithfulness) to her or gelding. Wickham ended unhappily married to a woman who, eventually, kept his testicles on a chain around her neck.

* * *

Gravid - means pregnant, if you didn't already know.

Note: And that's it! I hope you enjoyed this lighthearted little story. Though it did take a dark turn at the end with Wickham - a character I always have a difficult time treating nicely as it's repulsive to me to have a 30y man debauching a 15y girl, even a silly, flirty 15y girl.


End file.
